


you're somebody else (only it ain't on the surface)

by peopleinherearewaiting



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Haircuts, Mental Health Issues, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Doctor (Doctor Who), also this is purely me projecting stuff, i swear it does get better at the end, thasmin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24233365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peopleinherearewaiting/pseuds/peopleinherearewaiting
Summary: After returning to Earth after her time trapped in space prison, the Doctor finally opens up to Yaz about what happened on Gallifrey, her identity, and why Yaz caught her with a pair of scissors about to cut off a chunk of her hair.Alternatively, why write a couple of pages in your journal when you can write a 4k word fic projecting all your feelings onto fictional characters instead? :))
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 49





	you're somebody else (only it ain't on the surface)

**Author's Note:**

> In this fic, the Doctor is nonbinary but still uses she/her pronouns because I'm nonbinary and use she/her pronouns :)
> 
> TWs for gender dysphoria and panic attacks (please let me know if there's anything else that needs mentioning)
> 
> Title is from You're Somebody Else by Flora Cash
> 
> Thank you so much to Rachel (CoffeeAndArrows) & India for all their supportive comments & reassurances that this fic does actually make sense to people who aren't me :))

A few weeks had passed since the Doctor had turned up on Yaz’s doorstep and promptly passed out in her arms. In that time, Yaz watched the bruises that the Timelord had received in prison fade from her body. That was Yaz’s only indication of just how horrendous her partner’s time locked up had been as she was consistently avoiding conversations about it or about what had happened on Gallifrey. While the bruises disappeared and her clothes were washed, the Doctor still  _ looked _ different. Her unkempt hair now reached several inches past her collarbones and her face was strained, eyes duller. It pained Yaz to see her partner like this. She did what she could to offer comfort, grateful that the Doctor wasn’t shying away from physical comfort like she was from words.

Yaz could tell that the Doctor wasn’t getting better emotionally as time passed; instead, she seemed to be getting worse. Her bubbly persona was a distant memory. Yaz often caught the Timelord staring off into space, her brain clearly overworking as she continued to be haunted by her problems.

After a week of barely moving from Yaz’s couch, the Doctor had moved back to the TARDIS where she spent her time tinkering with the console. Yaz knew she hadn’t been travelling anywhere, even when the fam were all busy and she was left to her own devices. The police officer wondered if she was afraid of being taken again or afraid of losing her friends. Deeper down, Yaz worried that something inside the Doctor had fundamentally changed and that she couldn’t face visiting new places anymore.

* * *

Late one Tuesday evening, Yaz headed to the TARDIS to keep the Doctor company after her shift. As normal, she found her friend lying on her back with her head under the console, toolbox by her side. The Doctor waved to acknowledge Yaz’s greeting before she headed off to the kitchen to make them both cups of tea. No sooner had the kettle finished boiling than Yaz heard crashing noises and agitated muttering coming from the console room. Jogging back the way she came, Yaz was surprised to see the Doctor sat on the floor, about to take a pair of scissors from her toolbox to her dirty blonde hair.

“Woah, hold up!” Yaz said, hurrying over to the Doctor and taking the scissors from her hand before she could do any damage.

“It’s too long, it just keeps getting in the way,” the Doctor replied, clearly becoming more and more worked up. “It’s not right,” she said quietly, face turned away from Yaz in shame at the wave of emotion that she couldn’t stop from overwhelming her. Her breathing started to quicken, becoming shakier as she lost the battle to the thoughts swirling around inside her head.

Yaz’s police officer instincts kicked in as she took a second to observe and assess the Doctor. The apparently sudden wave of emotion combined with her unsteady breathing and trembling hands pointed towards a panic attack. When Yaz first met the Doctor, she never would have expected this to happen, but after several months of near-death experiences, old enemies, and destroyed planets, it was hardly surprising.

“Doctor, can you tell me what’s happening?” Yaz asked, trying to work out how deep into the panic the Doctor was.

“I don’t know,” the Doctor replied, eyes darting around as her breath started to come in even shorter gasps. “Yaz, what’s happening to me?” she pleaded, reaching out for her friend.

“Okay, Doctor, I need you to breathe slowly with me,” Yaz replied. “You’re having a panic attack. I know it’s scary but you’re going to get through it. Give me your hand and I’m going to put it against my chest like this,” Yaz said, holding the Doctor’s hand firmly to her heart. “Just focus on my heartbeat and breathing and try to breathe in time with me, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, focussing all her senses on Yaz as she fought to get her breathing under control. After a few more minutes sat together on the TARDIS floor, she looked up at her friend.

“Thank you, Yaz,” she said. Her shoulders were still hunched over but her eyes were a bit clearer than before.

“Can you tell me what’s going on, Doctor?” Yaz asked. “It’s important to talk about what’s happening so you don’t keep it bottled up like this. I understand if you need a bit more time, but—”

“It’s alright, Yaz. I’ll give it a go now,” the Doctor interrupted, “but it won’t be fun or easy.”

“In my experience, discussing feelings never is,” said Yaz with a wry smile. She gave the Doctor a moment to gather her thoughts and her breath before reaching out a hand to rest on her partner’s knee. The Doctor looked up at Yaz gratefully before placing her own hand on top of Yaz’s and closing her eyes briefly as she mentally steeled herself.

“When I was on Gallifrey with the Master,” she began, voice wavering slightly, “he showed me footage of my past from the archive. A childhood I can’t remember. He showed me how a Gallifreyan found me alone in space and brought me back to the planet I thought I was from. He showed me how my ability to regenerate was exploited by the Gallifreyans until they had made themselves the ultimate race. The Timelords. I am not one of them. I don’t know where I’m from and I have a chunk of my life I can’t remember. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

The Doctor broke off into sobs, the weight of the pain she was carrying causing her to bend over double. Yaz felt a single tear run down her own cheek, her realisation of the extent of her partner’s pain almost outweighing her desire to stay strong for her.

Yaz squeezed the Doctor’s knee, providing comfort while allowing the blonde to feel and express her emotions. After a little while, the Doctor took a breath and wiped her face dry.

“You know,” Yaz started, “that still doesn’t explain why I walked in here to you trying to hack your hair off.”

“Aah,” the Doctor chuckled quietly. “Yeah, that’s a bit harder to explain, even to myself.”

“Figure it out together?” Yaz asked, eyes full of kindness and patience as she looked at her friend.

The Doctor nodded in response, shifting where she sat. “Can we move to the kitchen, though? My legs are starting to cramp up from sitting on the floor,” she said, grimacing slightly.

Yaz laughed and rose to her feet, reaching a hand out towards the Doctor. “How about I make us some tea and then we can take our time to figure everything out?”

The pair headed out of the console room to the kitchen, hands still linked together. When they arrived, Yaz made the Doctor sit while she went about boiling the kettle.

“So,” Yaz said, her back to the Doctor as she pulled the teabags out of a cupboard, “the hair thing?”

The Doctor sighed, running her hand unconsciously through her hair as she tried to find the right words to explain the problem to Yaz.

“I guess it’s a lot longer than it was before I got stuck in prison, and every time I look at it or feel it on my shoulders it kind of reminds me of how long I was stuck there, of how long I was away from you,” the Doctor started haltingly.

“So, do you want it back to how it was before?” Yaz asked. “Around chin-length, right?” She looked at her partner, visualising how she had looked before crashing back into her life a few weeks ago.

“Well, that’s the thing,” the Doctor started, sounding unsure. “I thought that was what I needed, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised there was more to it. It doesn’t feel like  _ enough _ . And eventually, I realised that it never felt quite right before either, even when it was shorter. Whenever I look in the mirror, my reflection just looks  _ off _ . I don’t look like me, but then, I don’t even know what I look like! I figured it was just part of being a woman and I needed to get used to it again since it’s so long since I was one. But these feelings still haven’t disappeared. I just want to be able to look in the mirror and see  _ myself _ .”

The Doctor took a deep breath. She felt drained after letting all that out and she was fighting to stop the tears from falling. She had shed enough tears to last several months already.

Yaz had just finished making the tea as the Doctor finished talking and she brought it over to the table before sitting down and taking her partner’s hand again.

“Wow, that really is a lot to be dealing with on top of everything else,” Yaz said. “Do you feel the same way about people calling you ‘ma’am’ or a woman and about the idea of wearing skirts and dresses as you do about your hair? That it just doesn’t sit right?” Yaz asked.

“Yes!” the Doctor’s eyes lit up at the link. “At first I thought I just wasn’t used to it, but there’s more to it, isn’t there?”

“I think so,” Yaz replied. “Have you ever heard of the idea of someone being nonbinary?” 

“I think I remember Bill mentioning it when she was telling me about human sexuality,” the Doctor said, smiling fondly. “We didn’t really have gender or sexuality on Gallifrey like humans. We never really bothered with it.” She ducked her head before saying, “but I guess I’m not really from Gallifrey, am I?”

Yaz squeezed her hand in comfort, struggling to imagine how her partner must feel. “I can tell you a bit of what I know from friends and diversity training that I’ve done with the police if you think that will help. And you can keep researching as you figure out how you feel and what’s right for you.”

The Doctor nodded gratefully, sipping her rapidly cooling tea as Yaz started explaining.

“On Earth, some people identify as trans, which means they identify as the opposite gender to which they were born as. So, if they were born female, they might feel like a man trapped in a woman’s body. But other people don’t feel like a man or a woman. They may feel in between those genders, or like they have no gender, or like they move from one gender to another. All of these people fall under the umbrella term of nonbinary, although there are loads of other, more specific terms as well. Make sense so far?”

The Doctor nodded her understanding, fully absorbed in what Yaz was saying.

Yaz continued, “nonbinary people can feel dysphoria while they’re working out their identity if their outward appearance doesn’t match how they feel on the inside. I think that’s probably what’s happening to you with your hair.” 

She stopped, looking over to the Doctor to see how she was taking in all the information. The Doctor sat quietly for a few minutes before nodding slowly.

“Yeah, that makes sense. Thanks, Yaz, it really helps to have the language to explain my feelings. And now I have a jumping-off point to do more research. I think I’m looking forward to finding out more. I thought I knew everything about the Universe but I forgot that the Universe keeps evolving.”

Yaz smiled, glad that her partner was starting to find her peace. “Is there anything else I can do to help you?”

The Doctor shifted in her seat, her eyes drifting down to her mug before she looked up at Yaz again with determination.

“Will you cut my hair for me?”

Yaz almost choked on the sip of tea she had just taken. The Doctor reached over to thump her on the back as she coughed.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “I’m not a professional.”

“I know,” the Doctor replied, “but I trust you.”

Yaz smiled, feeling warm at the Doctor’s statement. “Okay,” she agreed, “but I’m gonna spend a bit of time watching YouTube tutorials before we do it, okay?”

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. What do you think we should do with it?” she asked, pulling on the end of a strand of blonde hair. “All that I really know is that I want it shorter. I don’t have a specific style in mind.”

“Why don’t we have a look on Pinterest?” Yaz suggested, pulling out her phone. “It’s what I do when I’m looking for ideas for hair and make-up.”

“Pinterest,” the Doctor said slowly, trying out the new word. “That sounds like a good idea.” She peered over at Yaz’s screen as Yaz typed ‘androgynous hair’ into the search bar. They scrolled through together for a while, pointing out elements of different cuts that they each liked while Yaz asked her questions to see what she needed and where her limits were.

“Do you want me to leave it long enough on top for you to run your hands through?” she asked. “I’ve noticed you like to do that when you’re thinking or distracted.”

The Doctor smiled, happy that Yaz knew her so well. “That would be nice. Although can you make sure it won’t get in my eyes too much? That’s always annoyed me,” she said, tugging a whisp that had fallen in her face.

“Okay,” Yaz said, nodding. “So, slightly longer on top. And how short shall we make the rest of it?”

“Pretty short,” the Doctor replied. “Might as well do it properly, and it’ll probably grow out fairly quickly so it doesn’t matter too much if it should be a bit longer.”

Yaz nodded, secretly glad that her partner didn’t seem too stressed about the end result. She got the feeling that as long as it was shorter, the Doctor wouldn’t mind too much. She continued scrolling for a second before looking up and posing her next question.

“Clippers?”

The Doctor paused in thought for a minute, reaching up absentmindedly to scratch at the nape of her neck.

“I’m not sure,” she replied eventually. “I know I want my hair shorter but that’s a big thing. I think I might like it but it might be too much to handle for now.”

“That’s okay,” Yaz replied, smiling gently. “We can figure it out as we go. We’ll only do what you’re comfortable with and we can always come back to it if you change your mind.”

The Doctor’s eyes sparkled as she looked at Yaz. She reminded her so much of Bill in so many ways. They were both so young and yet filled with kindness and compassion. It was for people like them that the Doctor risked her life over and over to save the Earth.

Yaz ducked her head under the Doctor’s intense gaze, a shy smile playing on her lips. “Okay,” she said, drawing both of them out of their reverie. “I think I have a pretty good idea of what it should look like.”

“Great,” the Doctor replied, excitement in her voice as she sprang off her stool. “Shall we get cracking?”

“Hold your horses,” Yaz replied, laughing. “I want to watch some YouTube tutorials before attempting anything.”

The Doctor pouted as she sat back down. Yaz rolled her eyes amusedly. “Now then, we want you looking somewhat presentable after all this,” Yaz told her. “Give me two hours and then we’ll get started, okay?”

The Doctor nodded her consent, leaving Yaz in peace as she headed off into the depths of the TARDIS in search of something to do.

Yaz sat back down with another cup of tea and a sheet of paper for making notes as she opened up YouTube and found her first tutorial.

* * *

Precisely two hours later, the Doctor came skipping back into the kitchen, clearly impatient to get started. Yaz chuckled as she looked up from her phone, endeared by her partner’s enthusiasm.

“Are you ready then?” she asked, her lips quirking upwards in a teasing smile as she watched her friend bounce on the balls of her feet.

“I’ve been ready for a while,” the Doctor replied excitedly. “Or, at least, I think I am. Maybe I’m not. I think I might be a bit nervous.”

Yaz placed a hand on the small of the Doctor’s back, cutting off the rambling before she worked herself up into a nervous frenzy.

“It’s okay to feel anxious,” Yaz replied. “This is a big change and it means a lot to you. And it’s okay to still feel excited at the same time.”

The Doctor took a breath, accepting Yaz’s comforting words as she tried to lower her heart rates.

“You’re right, of course,” she said. “There’s not many as wise as Yasmin Khan.”

Yaz smiled and shook her head at the generous compliment before taking the Doctor’s hand to lead her out of the kitchen and towards one of the TARDIS’s many bathrooms.

When they entered, they found that the TARDIS had provided a stool and all the things they would need. Yaz pressed a hand to the doorframe appreciatively, mentally thanking the TARDIS for her forethought. She smiled at the melodic hum she received in reply.

The Doctor pulled up short as she entered the bathroom, taking in the scene in front of her. She shifted from one foot to the other, squeezing her fingers anxiously. Yaz stepped forward so she was flush against the Doctor’s back and wrapped her arms tightly around her from behind.

“You’re okay,” she said softly. “We don’t need to do this right now if it’s too much, although considering you almost chopped your hair off yourself earlier, I’d say you’re probably ready.”

The Doctor sighed, squeezing Yaz’s arms in return. She nodded and moved to sit down on the stool quietly, still squeezing her fingers tightly. Yaz wrapped a towel around her shoulders like a cape before running her fingers through the Doctor’s hair. She shivered slightly at the touch but soon relaxed a bit.

“So, I think I know more or less what we’re doing,” Yaz said, combing out her friend’s dirty blonde hair, “so I’m going to start now if that’s okay?” She moved around to face her partner and watched a look of panic flash over her face before it was replaced with an expression of steely determination.

The Doctor nodded once and Yaz started fastening a hair tie around her hair so she could take the length off in one go. She reached over for the scissors, taking a breath and allowing her eyes to meet with the Doctor’s in the mirror before she raised the scissors and began cutting off the short ponytail. When she was done, she handed the ponytail to the Doctor and they both laughed with relief, although the Doctor’s laugh caught in her throat.

“Okay,” Yaz said, “that was step one. Now time for the rest.”

She ran her hands through the Doctor’s now chin-length hair, kneading gently into her partner’s neck as she watched her shoulders relax. She took the comb to make sure her partner’s hair wasn’t tangled before sectioning it as she had seen on the YouTube videos she had watched.

When she was done, she moved back around to face the Doctor.

“Clippers, or no clippers?” she asked softly, paying attention to the blonde’s facial expressions. She watched as the look of determination reappeared on her face.

“Clippers,” the Doctor replied firmly. “Might as well go the whole way, right?”

Yaz nodded and moved to pick them up from the bathroom counter. Silently, she moved back behind the Doctor and experimentally pushed the ‘on’ button, feeling the clippers whirring in her hand.

“Let me know if I hurt you at all,” she warned the Doctor before lifting a fistful of the Doctor’s hair and running the clippers slowly up from the base of her neck. A chunk of wispy blonde hair fell away and they both laughed again.

“It tickles,” said the Doctor, relaxing back into Yaz’s firm hand on her shoulder.

Yaz smiled in amusement at her partner’s reaction before continuing her strokes with the clippers around the back of the Doctor’s head. Once she had finished, she turned the clippers off and set them aside before running her hand through her partner’s fresh stubble. She hummed softly, enjoying the fuzziness as her partner leaned back into her touch.

“I guess I should keep going,” Yaz said, reluctantly pulling her hand away and leaning to pick up the scissors again.

“We could always go back to doing that later,” the Doctor suggested cheekily, missing the warmth of Yaz’s hand against her head already.

“I think I’d be okay with that,” Yaz replied, the corners of her mouth pulling up into a smile. She released the rest of the Doctor’s hair from the clip she had used to section it and set about trimming it down to the right length.

Once she was done and was satisfied that everything was even and looked how she wanted it to, she put her scissors down and stepped around to face the Doctor again. She ran her fingers through her partner’s hair, mussing it up slightly so it looked more natural. She stepped to the side slightly so the Doctor could see herself in the mirror.

“What do you think?” she asked, slightly apprehensive.

“I love it!” the Doctor replied, excitedly running her hands over her head and pulling on the longer hair before letting it fall back into place. “I finally look like myself for the first time in a long time, and I have you to thank for that, Yaz,” she said tenderly, reaching for her girlfriend’s hand. “What do you think of it?”

Yaz hadn’t taken her eyes off the Doctor since she had put down her scissors. She took a breath, trying to focus on forming words to answer the question but all she could think about was just how  _ incredible _ her partner looked.

“You look amazing,” she eventually managed to reply, her voice only catching slightly. She huffed at the knowing smirk the Doctor shot her before lowering herself into her partner’s lap and pushing her fingers through her hair. “You look unbelievably handsome,” she murmured into the Doctor’s ear, “but I think you already knew that, didn’t you? Now, why don’t we go back to my room and you can thank me properly,” Yaz suggested, her breath tickling the Doctor’s throat.

Without responding, the Doctor flung the towel off her shoulders and lifted them both from the chair, Yaz’s legs automatically wrapping around her waist as she walked them back down the corridor to Yaz’s room.

* * *

The next day, Ryan and Graham joined the pair back on the TARDIS after spending some family time together at Graham’s house. The Doctor was in the console room when they entered, fiddling with the buttons on the console. She looked up at the noise and grinned over at them where they stood frozen looking back at her.

Ryan was the first to regain his senses, saying “looking good, Doctor” and whooping as she spun in a circle so they could better admire her new look.

Graham chuckled at their antics. He gently laid a hand on the Doctor’s arm as he paused on his way to the kitchen. “I like the new ‘do, Doc,” he said. “Looks very ‘you’”.

“Thanks, Graham,” the Doctor replied, smiling softly back at him. “Do you mind sticking the kettle on and I’ll join you in a few for tea and biscuits?”

Graham nodded and headed off down the corridor with Ryan, leaving Yaz and the Doctor together in the control room.

“I can’t get over how incredible you look,” Yaz said as she walked over to the Doctor and hugged her from behind. “You always looked amazing but now it’s different, like you were always meant to look like this.”

The Doctor turned in Yaz’s grasp until they were stood face to face. “Thank you, Yaz,” the Doctor said, not having the words to describe how the young woman made her feel.

Instead, she leaned in and showed her with a kiss.


End file.
